


Discovery

by Kemmasandi



Series: Yeager Program [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kemmasandi/pseuds/Kemmasandi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tessa Yeager had always won the Weird Dad competition at school. This just made it official.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Biozonic on tumblr made a Yeager Program post and I drive-by drabbled on it.

She left the barn in a state halfway between What The Fuck, Dad? and I Really Did Not Need To See That. Both were emotions she’d become intimately familiar with over the past few weeks - being dragged halfway around the world on a mission to save a bunch of giant metal death machines hadn’t been high on her list of ways to celebrate the impending end of the school year, no matter how much said dad fanboyed over the tech involved.

Not until now, however, had there been circumstances specific enough to trigger this particular kind of Ew.

Halfway across the lawn she was blindsided by the sheer strangeness of the knowledge that her dad was doing the do with a giant robot warrior-pope-something - she wasn’t sure on the details yet but it sounded about that complicated - from outer space. What The Fuck, Dad? gained a few thousand neurons and fought for dominance with teenage-daughterly outrage.

She stared down at the dinner tray in her arms. She probably should have left it for whenever they were finished - but to be fair, she’d had other things on her mind at the time.

Mostly they’d involved getting the hell out and finding some eye bleach ASAP.

Tessa climbed onto the porch and the giggles hit like a freight train. She put the tray down on the porch before the chicken wings escaped over the side with the force of her shaking, then braced her forearms against the table and died laughing. At least, that was what it felt like: her eyes streamed, her throat went dry with the effort of keeping herself quiet, her diaphragm began to hurt after a while and she just couldn’t  _stop._  Somehow, the harder she tried, the funnier it was.

Eventually, exhaustion did what concentrated willpower couldn’t. She pressed her forehead against the sun-warmed wooden tabletop and gathered her strength. The summer twilight hummed, familiar and calming.

She picked up the tray and took it inside before the ants invaded. Dad probably wouldn’t appreciate the extra protein.

Then she went upstairs, flopped onto her new boy band bedspread, like everything else in the house paid for by the government (she’d purposely picked the most embarrassing one in the store) and pumped her fists in the air.

If Dad ever,  _ever_  made another snarky comment about Shane, his ass was grass.

At least  _she_  was dating inside her species.

 


End file.
